


Brother of Mine

by ToMarsAndBeyond3



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: fuuuuuuuck, he needs it, i wanna hug martin, plz hug him, priest brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToMarsAndBeyond3/pseuds/ToMarsAndBeyond3
Summary: Martin's PTSD acts up during a day out with his brothers.





	Brother of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before the show, but I'm not sure when. Vogel is a teenager though.

Martin Priest was an avid lover of breaking things.

His hair was growing too long, and he knew this by the wisps of bleached white that fell in his face as he swung his bat at a window. He thought that he was getting too old for this, but the truth was that he hadn't any clue how old he was anymore. Not since Blackwing he didn’t; not since that damned dark cell took away any sense of time.

The sun was beating on his skin like flames licking up from the pits of a hell he didn't believe in, and the sky was such a cloudless blue that it was nearly purple. No wait, that was the sunset, not the sky itself. Mondays didn't have a right to look this beautiful, and as he stepped over the broken glass to go for a vase, that's what he was thinking of. Damn antique shop, and it's bastard owner. The air filled with Martin's vibrant energy, though it was missing those of his brothers asleep back at their van.

Martin's fingers gripped the bat until his knuckles turned white, and he focused all his energy on tearing this damned fucking place to the ground. Oh, he could dream about bringing the world to its knees, making it fair. He dreamt, while breaking that precious vase, that he could make it so the children never suffered again. They weren't trapped like Vogel had been, they were not burned like the twins had been, and they weren't betrayed like Martin had been.

They were safe.

Someone had to keep them fucking safe.

The feeling of the bat flying through the heavy, old objects brought him such a sense of power that he was sure it was some sort of drug. He'd been powerless for too long; no, his brother had taken it away from him. But he had it back, he could keep it. Osmund had no power here, not now and not ever again.

Break it.

Break it.

Break it!

It wasn't like this shop being destroyed was a big loss. The owner was a fucking pedophile anyways; the world would be better off. That's what Martin strived for in life, to knock the bad guys off their pedestals and raise up the weak and clever. Martin’s bat flew out of his hands, and it knocked the wind out of that very same store owner, coming out of his shop in a fury.

Martin gave a war cry.

The blue lights seeped out of the man and into the air as Martin took a deep inhale, and then the inhale kept going. It was a soft, alice blue, and it almost looked like flames built on the wood covered in sea salt. Utterly breathtaking, but completely devastating. Martin felt the emotions of the man fill him up until every orifice was dripping with every feeling humanly possible to feel. He could taste the man's love, his fear and his happiness, his bitterness, jealousy, and morality. It was all right there, horribly delicious in Martin's mouth. 

Maybe he really was a monster, but then, it took a monster to get rid of the other monsters.

He knew what his brother would say. Osmund would laugh at him, mocking, his sick little Blackwing uniform pressed and neat and not a hair out of place. Except for the smile; that crooked, terrifying smile. Martin's brother was unhinged and they both knew it. They knew it when he burned their home to the ground, their mother and baby siblings - the twins - inside. They knew it when Osmund stabbed the needle into Martin's vein. They knew it when Martin woke up in that cell, that horrible Blackwing cell, and vowed to make a new family.

Martin should have seen it coming. But then, he had only been a teenager all that time ago.

“Well well well,” said a voice from behind Martin. The voice was colder than the arctic and had a distinct grin to the way the words formed. 

Martin knew the voice.

Of course he did.

He snarled as he finished his snack, the shop owner falling lifeless to the sidewalk. Martin turned and pointed at one Osmund Priest. But no, no was that him? His body kept phasing in and out, laughing with the voice of a damned snake-

“Martin!”

Martin looked up.

Vogel was standing in front of him; but that wasn’t right, everyone was supposed to be asleep. Vogel was wide eyed, his face framed by freshly shaved hair and the strands from what remained falling into his face. The leather of his jacket was getting so worn down; Martin needed to remind Gripps to buy - steal - a new one for him. Martin blinked.

“Vogel?”

“You okay man?!” Vogel’s usual excited, bouncy tone was gone, replaced with worry.

Osmund wasn’t here. He had imagined it; oh god, he had imagined it.

He knew the others had their share of hallucinations, nightmares, and everything of that caliber. It was something they had to live with; that was the price of being free from that underground cell still haunting them. But Martin had always done so well at hiding his own issues. He could play this off right? Vogel was still so young, he was a teenager for crying out loud. Martin had to hide it.

“I’m fine, little bird.” Martin reached forward, running his scarred hand through Vogel’s hair. “What’s a little punk like yer’self worried about?”

“Martin, please man?” Vogel still had that look in his eyes, the desperate concern that Martin hated to see on him. Maybe that was what made Martin sigh, finally relaxing his shoulders.

“Just havin’ a hard week.” Martin mumbled his words, giving Vogel a small smile. “C’mon. Let’s get ya’ to Cross.”

Martin closed his eyes for a moment; he could feel the grimace on his face. It hurt. It all hurt so fucking badly. But he had a family to raise and to care for, so maybe that could be enough.

And it would be, he’d make sure, but only for the time being.


End file.
